


This is for Kitty

by SingSwan_SpringSwan



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before (Movies), To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han
Genre: Cuddles, F/M, Fluff, I was supposed to do school and I wrote this instead, Movie Night, Sleepy Cuddles, it’s all fluff I swear, kitty is a sneak, lara jean has a cute yawn, peter kavinsky is a good boi, peter liked her even before they started fake-dating and you cannot change my mind, set during the first book obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingSwan_SpringSwan/pseuds/SingSwan_SpringSwan
Summary: The Song girls (read: Kitty) want Peter, aka, Lara-Jean’s fake boyfriend, to participate in Friday movie nights at the Covey household. But Kitty doesn’t know that the two are fake-dating, she thinks they’re REAL-dating, and Lara Jean and Peter have to pretend even around the little sister.But Peter has to be careful. If he’s not careful, he won’t just pretend he’s crushing on Lara Jean, he’ll act like he’s crazy in love with her, and that would be creepy.So for Kitty’s sake, he tries to act as if he only LIKES her big sister. It’s too bad he doesn’t think straight when he’s tired.
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky & Katherine "Kitty" Song-Covey, Peter Kavinsky & Katherine “Kitty” Song-Covey & Lara Jean Song-Covey, Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Comments: 7
Kudos: 143





	This is for Kitty

_ She’s doing this for Kitty _ . 

That’s what Peter thinks late on a Friday night, when he’s at his fake-girlfriend’s house, watching a movie with her and her little sister. 

Because Kitty has always had a big brother, right? And when she suddenly didn’t (thanks, Margo), Peter was ushered right over to be the substitute. Just until the whole fake relationship wasn’t needed, and Lara Jean and Josh could make up and be friends again like normal.

And it’s Peter’s price to pay after all (not that he minds in the slightest), because he was the one who told Kitty that he was Lara Jean’s boyfriend when he didn’t have to—when Lara Jean hadn’t wanted to lie to their families. It’s a debt Peter will gladly give up for the rest of his life. He likes Kitty, and he likes spending time with her. And he’s glad that Lara Jean isn’t actually that mad about it.

The goddess that is his fake girlfriend has actually been really gracious about keeping the act up when she’s at home. Part of that makes Peter frustrated, because can’t she just get tired of pretending and make the whole thing real already? But she’s stubborn. And if Peter isn’t patient, he’s going to push her away. Which is something he will not stand for.

He just needs to respect the queen. Because this is still fake to her, and she’s dutifully faking it for her little sister’s sake. So Peter needs to do his part and not pretend that it’s all real. 

They’d already had this discussion. Kitty wants Peter at movie nights. Kitty canceled plans with her friends to spend movie night with Peter (He’s honored). Therefore, Peter will come to Friday night movies at the Covey house, and he and Lara Jean are going to pretend to like each other in front of Kitty so that the little sixth grade girl will enjoy herself, gosh darn it.

Peter has no problem with any of that. At all. He tried to act a whiny bit opposed at first, because he didn’t want to seem weirdly over-eager, but deep down, he’s really really happy that he’s invited there. He’s really really honored that they want to include him in this sacred Song girl tradition. 

The only eensy weensy set back is that he has to pretend.

He would much rather not put up an act, but then that probably wouldn’t be appropriate for Kitty who was in the sixth grade—not seventh—and the whole thing was for her anyway, so did it really matter?

But it gets harder and harder to pretend the longer they keep doing it. Because even though Peter’s mother raised a gentleman, he’s having a hard time keeping his word and faking a cliché Peter-Kavinsky boyfriend. That boyfriend would throw an arm around Lara Jean and watch the movie with a bored expression. That boyfriend would hog the couch pillows and steal the last pieces of popcorn. That boyfriend would roll his eyes at Lara Jean when she made a wistful comment about the romantic subplot of the film.

Peter surprises himself by how much he  _ does not _ want to be that boyfriend.

He gives Kitty all the popcorn. She has it all. It’s sitting there, on one of the not-hogged pillows at her end of the couch. Peter actually likes the movies they watch, and he’s interested. Lara Jean has good taste.

He’s sitting on the floor, with his back to the couch, because Lara Jean likes to stretch her legs all the way out with a throw blanket tangled around her knees. It’s a little nerve-wracking, having her right behind him like that, but he’s a good actor. He can be nonchalant, even if he has to try really really hard.

He does it for Kitty. And so does Lara Jean.

Where did she learn to be so affectionate? She’ll do these maddening little things, like tuck her blanket around his shoulders, or giggle in the cutest way when something funny happens on-screen, as if she can relate to the lovesickness being portrayed.

And it drives Peter nuts, because he knows she doesn’t mean it. 

He knows she only does those things when Kitty is watching. To make her think that they really are in love. It must be convincing enough, either because Lara Jean is freaking good, or because Covey Number Three recognizes Peter’s restraint for what it is. He really hopes it’s the former.

Especially because Kitty doesn’t fall asleep during movies, so Peter has to pretend even if Lara Jean drifts off like usual. The night owl.

He has to pretend that he only  _ likes _ Lara Jean, that he’s not stupid over the moon, because if he didn’t, Kitty would tell her big sister, and her big sister would find Peter weird. And that’s mostly why he’s trying so hard. He wants to be a gentleman, not an honest to all  _ creep _ .

When has he ever been this unsure in a relationship? It’s not even a real relationship. From one side, the whole thing is fake.

It’s definitely just one side though.

That Friday night, Peter gives Kitty the last slice of pizza. Because she wanted it. He knows this because he asked. In the corner of his eye, he sees Lara Jean smiling, and he feels warm on the inside as he hands the box over (progress!). They’re doing this for Kitty, after all.

And Peter cozies up on the floor with Lara Jean’s blanket around his shoulders. It was kind of chilly. He’d been wearing a long-sleeve, but she had insisted because she thought it was cold and “didn’t want him to suffer”. He humors her, even though he was rolling his sleeves up under the throw. She apparently gets cold easy. Her stupidly soft red coat had even cut the scene.

Peter makes a mental note to bring her his hoodie on Monday.

Kitty wants to watch the Lord of the Rings that night. The Extended Edition. Yes, that was capitalized. Because the first movie alone was four hours. Peter meant to drink a coffee so that he could stay up the full length (they’d started late, as it was), but Lara Jean had found a new hot chocolate recipe, and when they try that instead, Peter forgets. It’s not like he never stays up late, he just never  _ liked _ to. Therefore it’s hard to. Especially when Kitty pops the movie in at ten o’clock, and he knows they won’t finish until late late late. Or early, since two is the morning.

Peter knows Kitty can stay awake that long. And he already knows that Lara Jean will not.

All the same, they can’t deny Little Covey her wish, because they’re doing this for her.

So they finish the pizza, and Peter sits on the floor, blanket on his arms, fake girlfriend over his shoulder. Kitty sets the popcorn atop its pillow so they can all reach, and the movie starts playing.

Kitty begins with her commentary, like usual. Lara Jean dutifully laughs, because this is for her, and Peter can’t help joining in. He likes Lara Jean’s laugh.

Kitty clears her throat. “We’ve had one, yes, but what about  _ Second _ Breakfast?”

Her voice and lips are in perfect sync with the character on the screen, and this is really funny to Peter. He leans back and grins at her. “Don’t think he knows about Second Breakfast, Pippin.” Peter tries, from his vantage against the couch cushions.

His impressions are nowhere near as good, and he’s laughing too hard, but Kitty turns around and smirks anyway. Lara Jean shifts behind him.

He can hear her moving, and can actually feel the tension in her body (because how could he not be attuned to Lara Jean and the ways that she feels?), but he—like a good fake boyfriend who is only supposed to be pretending for the little sister’s benefit—acts as if he doesn’t notice.

Only Kitty turns back to the screen, and suddenly Lara Jean’s fingers are in Peter’s hair.

Peter does not pay attention to the rest of the movie. 

It takes every freaking ounce of whatever willpower he has left to  _ not _ make a humiliating noise and lean into that touch like a bloody cat. He stiffens, unsure of what to do. But Lara Jean doesn’t seem to notice. She’s tired, and Peter can already hear her yawning in her quirky,  _ adorable _ little way.

She’s just got her arm flopped over, hand working gently through his messy curls.

And it’s freaking killing him.

This girl has no idea.

If Peter didn’t love Kitty, he would insist they end these movie night sessions. Lara Jean cannot do things like this to him and get away with it. He actually does not have the chill.

_ She’s doing this for Kitty _ . He reminds himself, and swallows thickly.

But she doesn’t take her hand away, and it feels so darn  _ good _ that Peter honestly just wants to melt on the spot. He shuffles even further back and hopes she doesn’t notice. 

Her fingers are moving so soft and gentle, magically undoing all the tough knots, and smoothing out every wave. It’s therapeutic, gosh darn it, like she was saying earlier. When someone else washes your hair. Peter had never completely considered it until now. Even at a young age, he’d wanted to be independent: to take a shower instead of sit in the bathtub while his mother cleaned him off. Now he knows what Lara Jean was talking about. And how on earth did he not convince her to do this sooner? She would have agreed, if his friends had been around. They might have teased him for being petted like a dog, but he realizes then that he doesn’t even care.

It’s nothing like Gen. Gen would get too aggressive, and Peter actually went out of his way to make sure she didn’t touch his hair. She tugged and twisted, and yeah, it was kinda kinky to make-out like that, but Peter’s scalp had PTSD.

A small, content sigh leaves his lips. He wants to drag it back in when it does.

_ She’s doing this for Kitty _ .

“Your hair is soft.” Lara Jean murmurs, and it makes Peter pleased for some reason.

Her hair is soft too. He’s told her as much before, back when it started to smell like coconuts. He’d kissed her then. And wants to kiss her now, too, but that would be breaking the rules, and he doesn’t want to associate the two instances in either of their minds. 

Peter wishes he could go back and keep his bloody face to himself. Only then Lara Jean might never have written his letter, and they might never have started this whole relationship (even if it’s fake), and then the selfish part of Peter is grateful that he didn’t.

Kitty glances back a few times and smiles. Peter thinks she’s happy for her sister, and he actively avoids the thought that she shouldn’t be if this is all just an act.

But he’s doing it for Kitty too, and he doesn’t really mind that.

Lara Jean shuffles into the pillows and mumbles sleepily. Her movements progressively get slower as she begins to fall asleep, and that is actually making Peter tired too. He knew he should have gotten that coffee. But now it’s too late to move, and he can’t ruin the great vibe they have going on.

For Kitty’s sake, of course.

Kitty is still perfectly alert, mouthing along to her favorite lines, Chesire-grinning whenever something funny happens. She doesn’t seem to notice how Lara Jean keeps moving her body, like she can’t find a comfortable position. Peter notices—how could he not—and twists around to smirk at her.

“You good there, Covey?” He whispers under his breath. He doesn’t want to disturb Kitty’s Orlando-Bloom-fawning.

Lara Jean squints at him and pulls her hand back. She’s stretched out on her side like usual, but all the pillows are propped between her and the armrest, and she’s having a hard time keeping them exactly how she wants. Her coat is bunched and twisted, and Peter can immediately tell that she’s not comfortable. She still seems cold, which is odd. She looks so cute frustrated.

“Yeah.”

Bull shark. 

She seems to know that Peter knows she’s lying, so she stops fidgeting and turns back to the movie. 

“I’m fine.”

But he can still see that her shoulders are wiggling ever so subtly, and soon, she can’t help but slip her hand out and turn the closest pillow to the side. Peter feels his smile widen. Golly, he’s so endeared. 

Lara Jean tries not to meet his eyes, even though she can probably feel him watching smugly (fondly)—if her slowly-reddening cheeks are anything to go by.

“You sure?”

She tucks her slender fingers into her sleeves (aw, he wanted her to touch his hair again) and nods, tight-lipped. But Peter continues to stare because he’s not convinced, and he gets to watch amused as three pillows steadily slide out from underneath her. When he has to catch one before it falls on the floor beside him, she finally huffs in defeat and sits up.

Peter chuckles lowly.

“Alright, fine, Peter K.” She sighs sleepily, impatiently, and moves the cushions. “Come sit with me.”

Uh.

“My old sword, Sting!” Kitty says. She doesn’t seem conscious of Peter’s rapidly-reddening face, and neither does Lara Jean.

He absolutely cannot sit on the couch next to that beautiful girl. He  _ should _ not. He shouldn’t be that close to her while she’s tired—while  _ he’s _ tired—he’s going to do something stupid. He’s going to break one of the rules. He’s going to break a very important rule, like the NO KISSING rule. And he doesn’t want to take advantage of Lara Jean like that. She deserves better.

So he shakes his head no, he’s perfectly fine on the floor. Even though a part of him really really wants to cozy up with her and just… not pretend for once.

Lara Jean gives him a sour look and blinks heavily. She’s tired. And she wants Peter to do as he’s told so she can go back to falling asleep—that much is obvious. “You asked,” She grouches.

Peter cannot help the way his lips curl up. She’s so darn cute. And he’s so afraid of doing something wrong.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Peter Kavinsky, get your butt off the floor  _ right now _ and sit with me on this couch.” This isn’t just a request, it’s a demand, an order. And a bold one at that. Which means Lara Jean is losing her patience, and very very tired.

Peter really wants to obey.

“Can you guys shush?” Kitty hisses. Hypocrite. She’d been talking the most.

But before Peter can say as much, the Little Covey makes a sharp gesture at him and glares, and he suddenly realizes that neither of them are giving him a choice. He  _ has _ to sit on the couch. Kitty is actually about to pause the movie and obnoxiously wait for him—which he knows she hates doing. So he hastily pushes off the ground and gets up.

He’s doing it for Kitty, but a tiny part of him knows he’s also doing it for himself—because he wants to hold Lara Jean like she’s really his—and he immediately feels bad. Why is he so selfish? 

He tells himself that he has no reason to feel guilty if this is what both girls are telling him to do. 

Kitty, satisfied, turns away. Peter sinks into the cushions, between Lara Jean and the armrest pillow hoard.

He’s really tense at first. Exhaustion is starting to have an impact on him, and he can feel it the longer he sits there, comfy. He doesn’t want to fall asleep. He needs to stay awake so he can pretend the way Lara Jean wants him to. But he’s warm and cozy, and everything feels okay. He feels like he’s safe. He feels like it’ll be alright if he just shuts his eyes for a few seconds…

_ No _ .

This is for Kitty. Peter has to stay awake.

A few scenes skip by, and Peter has no idea what happened—he wasn’t paying attention. Just trying not to let his eyes close. Beside him, Lara Jean is nodding, looking completely spent. Barely coherent. Definitely much worse off than Peter. 

They’re sitting closer than he’d realized. No doubt her intention. To sell the show to her little sister. She yawns really big.  _ So darn cute _ . 

Crap, he’s staring.

To distract himself, Peter starts taking the pillows on his other side and tossing them over Lara Jean’s head, closer to Covey Number Three, so that he has more room to put distance between them. Not enough for Kitty to suspect, but enough. Peter really can’t stand being so close to Lara Jean and having to pretend. He needs a little bit of breathing room.

Then the older girl hums quietly, and Peter is still processing how sweet and lovely that sound is when she leans to the side and melts into him.

The panic can only last for a few seconds. Peter cannot panic while holding Lara Jean, he needs to be chill. He needs to act like it’s no big deal. He needs to act like it’s a perfectly normal couple’s thing for her to rest her head on his shoulder and light his side on fire because it is, right?

She’s doing this for Kitty.

Her eyes have closed all the way, and in moments she will be completely unconscious. 

Peter acts. Because he’s good at that.

“Tired?” He whispers gently. His arm is around her body. When did that happen?

Lara Jean snuggles into his chest and mumbles “No.”

Her stubbornness is endearing. Amusing. Peter chuckles softly. “Whatever you say, Covey.” He uses the one arm to straighten out her coat, so that it doesn’t twist uncomfortably. She sighs and hugs him.

His heart is beating so darn fast, can she not hear it? Or is she too tired to notice? Golly, Peter hopes she doesn’t notice. She doesn’t seem to notice. She seems too sleepy to even be aware. 

But maybe she’s pretending  _ that _ for Kitty also. 

Her legs are all bunched up around the pillows, and that can’t feel nice. Peter scoots back and lies down.

Yes, risky move. But he tries to convince himself that he’s doing it so that his fake girlfriend can be more comfortable. And he’s tired too. Laying down just sounded—and felt—very nice. Lara Jean wriggles against his side until she fits. Her back is now to the screen, but just as well, because Peter is pretty sure she stopped watching an hour ago. She casually tosses her leg over his.

And Peter tells himself that she does it for Kitty.

But his brain is turning to fried mush, and not just because he’s tired. It’s now a great combination of things. Most of the incoherence has to do with Lara Jean Covey, her proximity, the sweet way she smells, and her pretty little snores as she swiftly drifts away. 

Peter is suddenly struck with how badly he should not fall asleep like this. Lara Jean will probably be mad enough when she wakes up and finds out from Kitty how much they cuddled; she’ll probably yell at Peter, or at least be upset that he didn’t try harder to refuse the couch offer. But if he  _ falls asleep _ , he could be in danger of never getting out of there. Worse, he might octopus hug her or something, and not wake up until the morning. That would be disastrous.

But he’s really really tired now, being able to feel every one of Lara Jean’s slow, steady breaths. He’ll blink, and realize that an entire scene of the movie has gone by without him realizing. Not that he could focus on it anyway, but he’s trying his darndest not to conk out for real. Watching the movie was supposed to help with that. It was working for Kitty, anyway.

Of course, the only sure way not to fall asleep entirely is to shimmy out from under Lara Jean and go drink that bloody espresso, but he’s far too happy with his current position for even coffee to tempt him up. 

Once again, he has to remember that this is just fake. It’s just for Kitty.

Only it doesn’t feel fake. And he doesn’t want it to be fake.

Peter scowls at the movie screen, even though he’s not paying attention. It stalls the inevitable for a few seconds. He blinks, hard, and shakes his brain sharply. He saves a pillow and tucks it behind his head with a free arm. All the same, he can feel the massive pull on his eyelids, and he realizes once again that he actually doesn’t have a choice: his brain is simply shutting down.

One of his last complete thoughts is that he should have drunk his darn coffee, and he’s afraid of what will happen because he didn’t.

Somehow, he doesn’t think the Kitty excuse will cut it.

**< ~><><~>**

Peter wakes up very slowly, and the first thing he thinks is that something is… off. Not—not  _ wrong _ , because nothing feels wrong; he actually feels really safe, and all around great. But he can tell right away that he’s not waking up to what he usually wakes up to. To start off, it’s bright, and either he forgot to close the blackout curtains in his room, or Owen deliberately snuck in and opened them to get back at him for something he probably did.

Also he’s holding something. It’s warm, and soft, and totally tangled in his legs. It smells sweet, and is breathing in snuffly little snores.

Peter freezes because he’s remembered. Oh crap. He’s holding Lara Jean. Which must mean he really didn’t leave her house yesterday. He spent the  _ entire freaking night _ at Covey’s house. On her couch. With her literally sleeping on top of him.

_ P a n i k _ .

Peter slowly opens his eyes (it’s bright), and is careful to move only them as he surveys the damage.

Lara Jean is curled up against him, fast asleep. Her head and hand rest against his chest, his arm is wrapped securely around her. Her hair tickles his neck in the craziest way. There is not an inch of space between them.

At some point in the night, she must have decided she was warm enough. Only one of the blankets is still partly covering her, and it’s doing wonders to make a knot out of their legs—which, Peter comes to the fast and terrifying conclusion that it isn’t undoing any time soon. The rest of the blankets have fallen to the ground, along with most of the throw pillows. 

This is so bad.

Peter feels himself growing pale, and even though he just woke up, and his brain is still dead to the world, the crushing urgency of this situation compells him to think of a solution—and fast. 

He just spent the night with Lara Jean.

He just slept with Lara Jean.

Not in a sexual way—duh—but they had fallen asleep next to—no,  _ cuddling _ each other, and now it’s the morning and Peter has to find a way out of this horrible situation before Lara Jean wakes up and gets mad. He’s not as worried about his mom hunting him down; he’s stayed out all night before. What worries him is how his fake girlfriend will react when she finds out that she’d literally gotten tangled up with him in the middle of the night, and that he didn’t leave like he was supposed to.

Wow, he can never just leave when he’s supposed to.

He knows she never wanted this level of intimacy. She never he wanted him to kiss her (sad boi vibes), and Peter has no doubt that finding herself hugging him, and having slept an entire night like that with him will freak her out.

Maybe he can try to sneak out. Hope no one sees him go, hope Lara Jean can wake up to solitude on the couch and not suspect a thing.

But when he tries to take gentle hold of her shoulders and slide out from beneath her, she shifts in her sleep; her arm tightens around his chest, and she presses herself down more insistently, making a cute grumbly noise as she does.

Nope. Not getting out that way.

Peter doesn’t need his heart, right? Because it’s just about short-circuiting. It’s not working correctly. It’s beating in all kinds of weird patterns. Maybe morse code for “I love you”, or something.  _ I love you, Covey _ . Which, he’s pretty sure he does.

Over in the kitchen, Peter thinks he can hear Kitty’s chipper voice. She’s a morning person  _ and _ a night owl? How is that biologically possible?

“Don’t worry,” She says in a mischievous tone, which makes Peter wonder who she’s talking to. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them. They’re behaving.”

Peter’s brain is still trying to turn on. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening.

“What the heck?” He mutters, and squints, wishing he could see over the top of the couch. It would help if he could sit, but he doesn’t want to disturb Lara Jean. Because that might wake her up before he has a chance to escape. Her hair is driving him nuts. He kind of wants to kiss it. Just softly kiss the top of her head. She wouldn’t know, she’s asleep. But that’s still against the rules, and Peter does have some integrity. Doesn’t get easier to resist though, now that the thought has crossed his mind.

“Good morning Peter!” 

Kitty has rounded the couch with a bounce in her step. She looks very pleased with herself. She’s chirping.

“That was your mother. Fear not, I let her know where you are.”

Crap crap crap. His phone is in her hands. How did she even figure out his password?

“Kitty?” He wants to hiss at her (no, not in a mean way, she’s just too crafty for her own good). “Hey, wait, what happen—” More importantly, why didn’t she wake him up when the movie was over?  _ She _ clearly hadn’t slept on the couch, which means she got up and went to bed all on her own. And didn’t wake Peter up in the proces. So now he’s still at their house, about to make a complete fool of himself.

Kitty flounces away before letting him finish the question, or answering it at all.

Peter wonders what time it is. He’s still pretty tired.

“Kitty! Hey, come back!”

His voice sounds tired too. He really hopes Dr. Covey isn’t home.

“Katherine!”

Oh crap oh crap. Crap crap crap, Lara Jean is waking up. Peter isn’t conscious enough himself to formulate a good excuse. He’s still trying to blink his eyes open.

With a crackly little moan, Lara Jean stretches her arm out and rolls over completely on top of Peter. He has to smack a hand over his mouth to avoid making a really weird noise. Her hair is just sifting all over the place, brushing against his cheeks and his arm and his jaw and he doubts he could think straight even if he was awake.

He wants to kiss her so bad.

She blinks just barely a couple of times and slowly sits up with her hands on his chest. She’s freaking  _ straddling _ Peter and she has no idea. Her cute little butt is smack square in his lap and her thighs are squeezing his waist and his brain is just a smoking, sparking mess. He can actually feel his face burning. It literally feels like he’s on fire.

Oh crap, this girl has no idea. 

He needs to get her off him. He needs to get out of her house, because he can’t pretend like this. He’s going to do something really stupid if he doesn’t leave soon. He’s already getting excited in all the wrong ways. Lara Jean will likely not appreciate that.

She yawns and stretches one arm over her head, rubbing her nose and scrunching her eyes and Peter thinks he can feel his heart climb out his throat. This isn’t fair. What she’s doing to him is nowhere near fair. The worst part is that she doesn’t even realize, because she’s still half asleep.

Peter gathers her hair with one hand and pulls it away from his face.

She blinks again, and seems to notice him for the first time. Confusion is the first thing that registers. “Peter?” She mumbles groggily. Her eyes get squinty and she rubs them.

By some divine miracle, Peter is able to reduce his blush rate and give her a smirk. “Hey Covey,” He says, like it’s perfectly normal to be pinned beneath her legs and waking up with her on her couch in her house. He wants to ask how she slept—because if she was uncomfortable he might actually never lay down again—but saying that would probably be too embarrassing for the both of them, so he stays quiet and lets her process.

She still seems really out of it. Peter wishes she would hurry up and get off his hips so that he can think straight again, but she doesn’t really appear to notice. She rubs her eyes again and grumbles.

“What are you doing here?”

“I uh… I guess I fell asleep last night.”

This doesn’t seem to phase her at all. Is she really that tired?

“Oh. What time is it?”

Peter’s hands have somehow found their way to her arms—still propped on his chest—and he’s rubbing circles into her skin because he has zero self-control. She doesn’t notice.

Even though it’s light in the room, Peter realizes that it could be brighter. So he says, “Still early, I think. Are you—”

Her eyes are closed again, like she’s already half-asleep. She tugs her hands out of his and sits up straighter.

(Deep breaths, Peter.)

She’s taking her freaking coat off.

Shoot, that’s really sexy.

“Uh, you good there, Covey?” 

She rolls her sleeves up too, and pushes her coat to the floor. “I’m hot.” She says, all mumbly and cute. Peter bites his tongue so that he doesn’t respond with, “yes you are” or something equally stupid.

Then Lara Jean plops right back down on the couch and winds her legs even more messily through Peter’s. Kitty isn’t even around—who is she doing this for?

She rolls to her side and takes Peter’s arm captive. She’s little-spooning him. How the heck? He can feel every curve of her body, every breath she takes. This was not part of the plan. He was supposed to leave, not get pulled further in!

But Lara Jean is already snuggling against him, and he’s got his limbs wrapped around her like an octopus, and all he can think is that he’s wanted to do this since sixth grade and he’s not sure if he can let go.

He can’t believe he’s actually holding her. How did they get to this point? Oh, right, they’re in a fake relationship, pretending to be in love so that Lara Jean can convince her friend that she doesn’t have the biggest crush on him, and so that Peter can eventually get back together with his ex.

Only he doesn’t want to get back with his ex. And they’re alone now so who are they pretending for?

Peter’s chin is level with her shoulder. Her sweet smell is intoxicating. He wants to take a really big breath.

“Tired, Covey?” He murmurs in her ear because he can.

She makes an affirmative noise. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Go ahead.” He tells her, even though he’s not supposed to. He’ll blame her hair. It’s muddling his rational thought-process. It’s making his heart feel warm and snuggly—he pulls her to himself.

He can feel her relax. She’s melting in his arms, and oh wow, this has got to be one of the most amazing feelings ever. It might be because he’s tired that he thinks that. But it could also just be Lara Jean. She has the effect on him.

“Daddy!” Kitty stage-whispers up the stairs. “Daddy, come look!”

Peter pretends to be totally asleep when his fake girlfriend’s family comes over and smiles at them together, and it isn’t hard. He’s still tired, and Lara Jean is making him want to doze off.

“Hang on, is that Peter?”

“Yeah, he fell asleep here last night. Look at this picture I took on Lara Jean’s phone!”

Dr. Covey chuckles, and Peter feels loved.

“My goodness, aren’t they adorable?”

“It was my job to wake him up,” Kitty says proudly. “But they looked comfortable so I didn’t.”

“Top-notch idea, Honey.” They move into the kitchen. “Come on, let’s make breakfast. If those two let you have all the popcorn last night, they’ll be hungry when they wake up.”

Kitty is so happy with herself that she agrees to the idea.

At least they aren’t upset with him. Kitty even planned it. But Lara Jean was tired when she woke up, and so Peter is not entirely sure he got her genuine reaction. Which is fine for now, because he has to pretend for her family, and that can be his excuse.

His excuse for simply touching her, as if this is real. What he does next has no good excuse, however, which is why he apologizes on Monday even though she probably won’t remember.

Peter tilts his head, and kisses her hair. He can feel the line of her neck as he does, and his nose brushes her jaw. 

He can blame his tiredness all he wants. He can blame her sweet smell, and the way she’s making him hold her. He can blame her deliberation. He can blame the faking he’s supposed to do for her family. But whatever he blames, the fact will remain that he’s kissed her for himself, and only because he wanted to.

He’s so selfish. 

But it gives him comfort to have done it at least once. If this relationship doesn’t last and they have to go back to the way things were, at least he’ll be able to say that for one night, for one morning, he got to hold Lara Jean Covey like she was really his. He got to touch her like she really loved him back.

Peter falls asleep like that, arms wrapped around her middle, face buried in the crook of her neck. He feels safe safe safe, and he likes that.

He wakes up later to Lara Jean gone and a new blanket tucked around his shoulders. She’s eating pancakes at the table, and there’s a plate waiting for him too. It’s back to the real world, back to pretending. But Peter doesn’t mind, because Lara Jean is in the real world and that is good enough.

On Monday, Peter buys her a set of new scrunchies. He tapes his note to them.

_ I’m sorry I kissed your hair. I know it’s out of the contract. _

_ It won’t happen again if you stop using coconut shampoo. _

_ —Love, Peter _

He knows she doesn’t read the notes; he’s seen her throw them away, completely folded up, probably thinking they’re all blank. And that’s fine, because now he can write whatever he wants.

_ I’m pretty sure you stole my heart. _

He would never really ask her to stop using coconut shampoo. He likes it too much. It suits her very nicely, and it makes him relax more than he’s willing to admit.

_ I’m pretty sure I love you _ .

Only he doesn’t see her throw the note out, and she wears the blue scrunchie on Tuesday. Peter likes her in blue. It looks good with his hoodie.

But maybe that’s just Lara Jean.

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone written a hanahaki fic for these two yet I’m always down for the angst


End file.
